


Ho. Ho. Ho.

by tprillahfiction



Category: Star Trek: The Original Series
Genre: Christmas Crack, Christmas fic, Costume Kink, Established Relationship, Farce, K/S Advent 2013, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-24
Updated: 2013-12-24
Packaged: 2018-01-05 21:54:56
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,179
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1099018
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tprillahfiction/pseuds/tprillahfiction
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Enterprise visits a colony during the holiday season.  Bones has to carry out routine medical check-ups.  While there, they discover Santa Claus, the real deal is too ill.  So that all the children of the universe aren’t disappointed, Kirk agrees to take Santa’s place.  He convinces Spock to be his elf.<br/>Warning: Farce.  Slight OOC'ness in keeping with the farce style fic.  Cracky.  Sillyness.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Ho. Ho. Ho.

HO. HO. HO.

22:00 hours.  McCoy reclined on his bunk, exhausted after his ten hour shift.  He half watched a movie on the bulkhead TV, half dozed off.  A song: “ _Simply Having a Wonderful Christmas Time_ ” played softly on the speaker.  Suddenly a message pinged up on his monitor.  He sighed and grunted as he scooted himself off the bunk, heading towards his desk.  

The message was from Earth--marked personal.  

“McCoy, privacy code 73462, unlock,” he muttered.

“Working.”

The message opened up.  He read it and smiled. 

Joanna was getting married.  Married on Christmas Day. 

Joanna was a little young to be getting wedded, eighteen years old, okay a lot young.  Married young himself (and divorced ten years later) he didn't recommend it.  However, he hadn’t been involved much in her life being in Starfleet so it wasn't like he could tell her how to run hers.  

He wished he could attend the wedding, though, walk Joanna down the aisle.  He would be proud to do so and she would look so beautiful.   Unfortunately, the Enterprise was going to be nowhere in the vicinity of Earth for at least six months.  

Christmas was coming up in five days but they weren’t even scheduled for a shore leave anywhere.  Holiday parties aboard ship and Christmas decorations were considered non regulation and therefore not allowed.  So, it was work as usual.  Oh... crew had their gatherings and drinks together to commemorate the occasion, that would be about it.  Nothing fancy. 

He read more of the message.  Oh, Joanna’s stepfather, John, was going to walk her down the aisle.

Wait a minute.

Stepfather?  Jocelyn got married?  When had that happened?  Nobody had even bothered to tell him.  

Maybe it was irrational but he’d been harboring a desire to maybe, somehow reconcile with Joss someday--when he came back from the five year mission, which was ending in a year.  

Joss got married?  All his hopes and fantasies suddenly came crashing down around him.

“Computer end message.  I’m done,” he snapped.  

The computer obediently wiped it offscreen.  

“Computer shut off the goddamned movie and the music, I want that off, too.”

The computer obediently silenced both. 

He poured himself a double bourbon.  Well, he was simply having an awful Christmas time.  

*

Spock strode through the door of the cabin he shared with Jim.  As soon as he’d entered, however, his lover of three years made a sudden move, turning slightly in the bed they shared. Their television was visible--Jim had been watching something--however at present it was not showing an image.  

“Oh... hello, Spock,”  Jim said a bit breathlessly, perhaps, which was unusual as the man was simply reclining, not performing physical exercise or engaged in sexual intercourse.

Spock went over to the desk, setting down his tri-corder.  “Good evening, Jim.”

“Wasn’t expecting you back so soon.”

“I finished my experimentation in the lab,” Spock explained.  He came over to sit next to Jim on the bunk.  “Is everything alright?”

“Huh?  Yeah, it’s fine, why?”

Spock shook his head.  “You are perspiring.”

“Oh...it must be hot in here.”

“Ah, of course.”

“Computer,” Jim said, “Put on ‘It’s a Wonderful Life’.”  The television came on, the opening credits started to roll.  

“Jim.”

Jim ignored him, instead his eyes were focused on the film.  

“Jim,” Spock said a little louder.

“Yeah?”

“Are you hungry?”

“No.  Are you?”

“Negative.  I was simply wondering if you had eaten.”

“Oh," Jim said, absently. "I already ate dinner with Bones.”

Spock nodded.  “Well then, I shall ready myself for bed.”

“Okay,” Jim replied.  “See you later.”

Spock paused at the bathroom door.  He should invite Jim into the shower with him.  They had not engaged in sexual activity for two standard weeks.  However the last time they had, Jim had not seemed that interested, barely had gotten aroused.   

As he gazed across at the captain, his lover, the man merely seemed to be anxiously waiting for him to leave.

He used the shower, taking his time.  Perhaps Jim would surprise him and enter the shower.  

Perhaps not.

Alternately, surely Jim would commense sexual activity with him when he got out of the shower.  He made sure he was properly cleaned in all the appropriate places.

He exited the bathroom and found Jim sound asleep.

Ah.

He stood watching for a moment, then: “Computer,” he commanded softly.  

“Working.” The computer’s voice was loud enough, but did not wake Jim.

“Show the last vid viewed by Captain Kirk on the television.”

He was hoping for: “It’s A Wonderful Life.  Instead on screen, appeared a video with the name of  ‘Ho, ho, ho.’  It showed sexual activity, the genre being what humans referred to as pornography, or porn.  The actors in the film wore scantily clad Christmas outfits, from what Spock understood Christmas attire to be:  red velvet trimmed with white fur.  One actor was dressed as a reindeer, complete with antlers on his head and hoofs attached to his hands and feet.  He was crouched on all fours while being penetrated by a scantily clad santa claus.  Another scantily clad actor, looking on, organ in hand, pleasuring himself, was dressed in green and wearing fake pointed ears-- 

Jim obviously had been masturbating to this when Spock had first entered the cabin and continued while he was in the shower.  This was not the first instance.  They had discussed this.  Jim had promised he would cease the daily pornography viewing.  Spock was not against porn per se and Jim was certainly welcome to view it on occasion, but not daily on his own to the detriment of their sexual life.  It was apparent that Jim would rather watch figures on a holoscreen engaging in sexual acts and self stimulate than engage in coitus with a real living being.  

As Spock gathered up his belongings, as silently as he could as not to wake up Jim, he mused over where he had gone wrong--Jim was obviously unsatisfied with the sex Spock was providing.  Jim had once said, that Spock was a little ‘uptight’ in bed.  Spock had hoped he was satisfactorily relaxed enough during sex and 'letting go' as Jim had mentioned.  Spock had had to be taught how to perform fellatio to Jim’s enjoyment.  He’d remembered his first few fumbling attempts were frustrating to Jim.  But he had thought he had overcome the initial shortcomings.   Perhaps he had not done so enough. 

The males in the video had very muscular bodies with large genitalia.  Spock had none of this.  He was strong but physically very thin and his penis was average sized for both a Vulcan and a Human.  He could not compete with the pornography males.   When he penetrated Jim on occasion, he wondered if perhaps Jim preferred the penis size of his previous partners and the males on the television.

He glanced in the mirror above Jim’s dresser.  He was not the most attractive being in the universe, he knew that.  Jim was far more comely than he, and could by far attract any living being to his bed that he wanted. 

Spock was holding Jim back in his pleasure.  It would be doing the captain a favor to bow out now.

His overnight bag packed, he stole out of the quarters.

*

“Bones,” Jim said, pouring himself a drink in the doctor’s office.  “You know Spock left me in the middle of the night?  Didn’t even say goodbye.  Didn't bother to write me a note.  I guess it’s over between us.”

Bones took a drink, scowling.  “Again?  Hmph.”

“I can’t believe that bastard.  Took all his belongings and uniforms with him.”

“Hmph,” Bones replied.

“That’s all you gotta say, is ‘hmph’?”

“Dammit, Jim,” Bones snapped.  “What the hell do you want from me?!”

“I just wanted you to listen--”

“I got my own goddamned problems.  I’m a doctor not a relationship counselor.”

“I thought maybe you could listen--tell me what I should do,” Jim said, tightly.

“I dunno.  You were probably caught jacking off to porn again, weren’t ya.”

“So?  I’m a man, we like porn.”

“Yeah, but you told me it bothers Spock.”

“I have a right to watch porn if I want to.  I enjoy it.  He doesn’t do half the shit the guys do on there.  Plus it was Christmas porn.  My favorite.”

“Christmas porn?”

“Oh yeah, Bones.  Hot.  Damned hot.  Santa fucking a guy dressed as a reindeer.”

Bones gave him a disgusted look.  “Ever try talking to Spock?  You know, explaining that you want to spice things up in the bedroom?  Maybe he would have been willing to you know--role play or something.”

“He blushes green when I try to bring up our sex life.  He's so quiet and inhibited in the sack, half the time I wonder if he's really enjoying it or not.”

“Hmph.”  Bones started to giggle madly, downing his brandy.  "I can't picture Spock having sex."

Jim rolled his eyes at the physician.  The bosun’s whistle suddenly sounded.  He pushed the button.  “Kirk here.”

“ _Keptin, we are in orbit around Norpolius III_.”

“Acknowledged, Kirk out.”

*

There was already a foot of snow on the ground as they materialized on the planet.   More was rapidly falling. 

“Burrrrr,” Bones said, as he wrapped his coat around him.  

Jim snapped open his communicator.  “Kirk to Bridge.”

“Spock here.”

“Mr. Spock, I would have appreciated an accurate report on the weather down here.  We’re freezing our asses off.”

“Captain, I gave you a report.  Perhaps you were not listening.  The doctor is adequately attired, I assumed you would be also.”

“I am adequately attired.  I have a coat and mittens and a scarf on.  But I wasn’t expecting it to be THIS cold.  You didn’t warn me.”

“I did too, Captain.”

“You did not.”

“I did.”

“You did not.”

“I did.”

Spock was not backing down, it was apparent.  That made Jim all the more angrier.  “You’re on report, MISTER.  I’ll deal with you when I get back.”

“Acknowledged.”

“You know what--”

“Jim,” Bones interrupted, tapping him on the shoulder with a gloved hand as Jim continued to argue with the first officer.  “Come on.  That’s enough.”

“Kirk out,” Jim huffed and snapped his communicator shut.  His breath fogged out in front of him.  “The colony is that way, Doctor.  You’d think they’d have somebody out to meet us.”

“Godammit,” Bones said as they trudged through the snow, their boots sinking into the ground, the doctor barely keeping up.  “They way you two fight, it’s like a couple of kids.”

*

“Look at that, Jim!” Bones said, pointing.

A creature frolicked in the snow, darting in and out of drifts.  It had fluffy hair, brown in color, a white mane, with black antlers and hoofs.  Jim and the doctor stopped to watch it.

“Jim, that’s a...” Bones stared open mouthed.  “That’s a reindeer!”

“Can’t be,” Jim said.  “It’s probably not a reindeer, just looks like one.”

Bones held up his tri-corder, taking a reading.  “It’s a reindeer, Jim.  Earth variety.”

“I’ll be damned,” Jim replied.

*

The assembled colonists were an odd bunch, Jim had to say.  The village where everybody lived reminded Jim of a Christmas card or a movie.  They all certainly seemed to love Christmas.  Colored lights strung up upon very old fashioned cabins, candy cane lamps, more reindeer walking around which seemed to be pets of the colonists.  The trees were the standard pine christmas trees.  Instead of shrubbery it was boughs of holly, topped with red bows.   

There were quite alot of what appeared to be vulcans or some type of vulcanoid species rushing around the village, clad in green velvet leiderhosen with short pants and multicolored red and green tights and velvet pointy shoes.   They obviously were extremely busy and singularly concerned with fulfilling some task or another.  

“They look like elves, Jim.”

“No such thing as elves, Bones.”

The reason for the visit in the first place was so Bones could perform the required annual physicals.  The colonists didn’t seem too happy about this, but to be honest most colonists on the other colony planets didn’t enjoy it either--and besides, did ANYONE enjoy Bones’ physicals?  Nobody liked it on board the Enterprise, either.  

Inside the largest cabin, also decorated on the inside with as much Chrismas decor as could be stuffed into the place, the guy in charge-- a rotund humanoid man who'd identified himself as 'Nick', clad in red velvet, trimmed in white fur, posessing white hair, white beard, white eyebrows--scowled as Bones ran his type II scanner over him.  

“Hmmm,” Bones said, squinting at the readout.

“Get a move along!” the man demanded.  “We’ve got work to do!  Christmas is nearly here!”

“I assure you, Mr. Nick,” Jim said, “Dr. McCoy is moving as fast as he can.  He needs to examine each and every one of you.”

“It’s Mr. Claus,” the gentleman replied.  “My name is Nick Claus.”

“Nick Claus,” Jim repeated.

“Yes, that’s right.  Did I stutter?” the man replied.

Jim sighed.

Bones motioned for Jim to come near and whispered in his ear:  “Jim.  I don’t like the look of this.”

“What is it?”

“He is a very sick man.  If we don’t get him to sickbay, he’ll be dead in a week.  I suspect Reinhart’s disease, but I won’t know for sure until I can run more tests.”

Jim tried to break the news to the older gentleman gently.  “I’m sorry but you’re going to have to come with us.”

“What the hell for?” the man asked.

“Well,” Jim said, “you’re--”

“You’re dying,” Bones told the man, bluntly.  “Now if you have what I think you have, I can treat you, but you have to come--”

“Bullshit!” the man replied.  “I don’t have anything.  Dying, my foot!  I feel just fine.”

“You’re not fine,” Bones snapped back.  “You very ill.”

“What a load of hooey!”

“Dammit!” Bones said.

“Gentlemen,” Jim broke in.  “Look.  Mr. Claus.  As a representative of the Federation, I am required to bring you aboard my ship to render necessary medical treatment.  Is he contagious, Doctor?”

“No.  We don’t need to quarantine.  The rest can stay here.  I’ll assign M’Benga to do the physicals on the vulcanoids.”

“They’re not vulcanoids,” Mr. Claus huffed.  “They’re elves.”

“There’s no such thing as elves,” Jim told the man.  “You’re coming with us and that’s final.”

Mr. Claus folded his arms.  “Fine.  Then allow me to bring along a few members of my entourage.”

“Entourage?”

“Entourage.  I don’t go anywhere without them.”

“Who is in your entourage, Mr. Claus?”  Jim wondered if he should be worried.  

“My chief elf.” Mr. Claus put his hands in his mouth and whistled.  A pointy eared assistant suddenly appeared at the man’s side.  “Gus.”

“Gus?” Jim said.

“Yes.  Gus.  You need to have your hearing checked, Captain.”

“Anyone else?”

“Rudolf.”

“Rudolf,” Jim replied.  “Another elf?”

“No, idiot,” Mr. Claus said.  “He’s my head reindeer.”

Suddenly a small, young reindeer appeared at the man’s feet looking up with very doey eyes.  Unbelievably, the animal possessed a bright red nose.  

“I’m sorry, Mr. Claus,” Jim told him, “you’ll have to leave the animal here, our regulations forbid--”

“Stuff your regulations,” Mr. Claus said.  “Either Rudolf and Gus accompany me aboard your ship, or I stay on Norpolius to finish my work.  Christmas is in four days for crying out loud.”

“You can’t stay here, Mr. Claus.  Not until we treat your illness.”

“Illness.  Hmph.  My ass.   If you want me to go with you, I bring my reindeer aboard.”

Jim rubbed his face with his hands.  “Fine.  You three and that’s it.”  He looked over at Bones.  “Let’s go.”

*

Jim watched as his chief Engineer stood staring openmouthed at the guests.  “Ach,” Scotty gasped out.  “It’s...it’s...it’s Father--”

“Mr. Scott, notify Mr. Spock that we have beamed aboard,” Jim commanded.  

Suddenly the first officer entered, as if on cue.  He halted when he spotted the elf carrying the reindeer.

“Got a staring problem?” Gus asked Spock.

Spock raised an eyebrow and said nothing.

“I hope this reindeer doesn’t have fleas,” Jim muttered more to himself.  He felt himself starting to itch.

“Sickbay,” Bones said, motioning for all of them to get a move on.

“Yeah, sickbay,” Mr. Claus echoed.  “Don’t plan on being here long.  Few hours at the most.”  The exited the transporter room, walking down the corridor.  “My my, what a boring ship.”

“What is so boring about it, Mr. Claus?” Jim asked.

“No christmas decorations.”

“Christmas decorations are against regulations,” Jim replied.  “Now if you’ll come this way--”

“You sound like the Grinch.  Or Ebenezer Scrooge,” Mr. Claus said.

“I didn’t say I didn’t like christmas, it’s just that we’re a working Starfleet vessel, decorations are a distraction.”

Jim herded them all into the turbolift:  Bones, Spock, Gus the elf--of which Spock was still eyeing in a weird way--the reindeer and Mr. Claus."  

“Deck seven,” Jim said.

*

“Bones, what’s the prognosis?” Jim asked.

“Definitely Reinhart’s disease, Jim.  I’ve started him on clorothoyhydroxinate.  It should clear it up in a few days.”

“A few days?!” a voice (Mr. Claus) bellowed out from the ward.  Jim walked in, followed by Bones.  Mr. Claus was ensconced in a bio bed, clad in a red and green striped teeshirt, blanket up to the waist.  His red and white suit and boots and belt and hat were slung on the bed nearby.  The elf sat on a chair next to the biobed, still holding the reindeer.  

“Bones? Shouldn’t the reindeer be somewhere else--not in sickbay?” Jim hinted.

“I know, Jim,” Bones whispered.  “But it keeps him quiet.” He tilted his head towards Mr. Claus.

“I can’t sit here a few days,” Mr. Claus protested.

“Yes you can.  Nothing is more important than your good health.”

“Bullshit!” Mr. Claus replied.  “Delivering presents to the children of the universe is more important than my Goddamned health.”

Jim glanced at Bones and Bones met his glance.  

“Where’s my specs?”

“Your what?” Bones asked.

“His glasses,” Gus the elf said.  “You confiscated them.”

Bones sighed and handed them over.  Mr. Claus donned them and glared at Jim.  “Thanks a hell of a lot.  Now what are the poor children of the universe gonna do?”

“What are you talking about Mr. Claus?”

“Don’t you understand, you nitwit, I’m Santa Claus.”

Jim folded his arms.  “Santa Claus?”

“Yeah.”

Jim cleared his throat.  “Mr. Claus, I understand that you want to return to your colony and you will, I assure you, as soon as you are well enough to--”

“I feel perfectly fine.  I don’t feel any different than before.  I think these are trumped up medical issues by your quack doctor here--” Bones scowled at that and folded HIS arms, “just so the federation could kidnap me and hold me aboard this boring starship to make me miss Christmas Eve and disappoint those poor little boys and girls.  As to why, I don’t know.  What are those boys and girls going to open under their trees come Christmas morning, huh?”

“Mr. Claus I’m sure their parents will have plenty of gifts for them--”

“I’m the one who delivers the gifts!” Mr. Claus pounded his chest.  “Me!  And my reindeer.  The elves load up my--”

“Sleigh?” Jim interrupted.

“No, dumbass,” Mr. Claus said.  “My shuttlecraft.”

“You have a shuttlecraft?” Jim asked.

“Yep.  It’s called the ‘Santa-sleigh’.”

“Right,” Jim said.  “I’m sorry, Mr. Claus, I have to keep you here for at least a week.”

“You said a few days!  Now it’s a week.  My sentence seems to be getting longer and longer and longer and longer.”  Mr. Claus glared again at Bones.  “Quack!  Quack!  Quack!”  

“Mr. Claus, I won’t tolerate you calling my Chief Medical Officer incompetent,” Jim replied.

“Quack, quack, quack.”  Now Mr. Claus started flapping his arms and making duck noises.

“Jim.” Bones motioned for the Captain to join him over by his office.  As soon as they got there, he said:  “Good Lord, who knew Santa Claus was such an asshole?”

“Bones, you don’t really believe that’s...Santa Claus, do you?”

“I dunno, Jim.  He sure as hell looks like him.”

“Father Christmas is not an asshole!” Scotty broke in, suddenly from the doorway.  “How dare you call him that?”

“Mr. Scott,” Jim said,  “That is not Father Christmas.”

“It IS Father Christmas!" Scotty insisted.  "In the flesh!  Unmistakably!”  Scotty strode into the ward.  “Father Christmas!  Welcome to the Enterprise!”  

“Mr. Scott,” Jim called after him.  “Mr. Scott....oh shit, forget it.  Let him humor the man.  Bones, there’s millions of humanoid males that resemble Santa Claus.  They’re in malls all over the universe.  None of them are really Santa Claus.  None.   Santa Claus is a myth, hundreds of years old, thousands of years old.  This man needs a psyche exam.”

“I did one on him, Jim,” Bones said.  “Are you kidding me?  That was the second exam I performed, once he got here.  He checks out.  He’s mentally stable.  Also I did an exam on that elf.  That is not a vulcanoid, not at all.  Appears to be as they claim.  Elven.”

“There’s no such thing as elves, Bones.  Maybe it’s a humanoid, with altered ears.”

“Nope.”

“Rigellian.”

“Nope.”

“Romulan.”

“Nope.  That male is of a species I’ve never encountered.”

“And you’re assuming he’s an elf.”

Bones shrugged.

“You’re as nutty as they are.”

*

The morning of Christmas Eve rolled around.  McCoy did some charting at his desk.  Time to check up on Mr. Claus.  Before he got up from his chair, he noticed something at his elbow.  A christmas cracker.  What the devil?  How did that get in here?

He picked it up and studied it, smiled and set it back down. 

He walked into the ward to find Mr. Claus, alone and weeping.  

“Mr. Claus?" He rushed over to the man.  "What’s the matter?”

“Why don’t you believe me?”

“What, that you’re Santa Claus?”

“Yes.  You don’t believe me.”

“Well.”  McCoy picked up Mr. Claus’ chart.  “I believe that you're a very ill man.  Thankfully with a full course of treatment, you will be able to return to your colony.”

“It’s Christmas Eve.”

“I know it is,” McCoy replied.  “I’m sorry.  I know it's difficult to be away from your family and fellow colonists.”

“I feel for you, Leonard McCoy,” Mr. Claus suddenly said.

McCoy looked up sharply at the use of his full name.  “You do?”

“You’re very lonely, aren’t you.”

McCoy pursed his lips.  “Sure.”

“You wish you could be with your family.  Right now.  Don’t you.”

“Doesn’t everyone around the holidays?”

“You wish could walk your daughter, Joanna, down the aisle, tomorrow.  Instead of her stepdad. She's getting married on Christmas, isn't she.”

McCoy dropped the PADD, then bent down to pick it up.  “I don’t know how you know that, Mr. Claus.  Have you been snooping in our library files?”

“Nope.  How could I?  I don’t have access to your computer.”

“Tell me how you know that,” McCoy demanded.  

“I’m Santa Claus.”

“Santa is a myth.”  McCoy backed away from the man.  “I’ll be in my office.”

“Leonard,” Mr. Claus said.  “Why don’t you believe me?”

McCoy came back.  “I’d like to believe you, but I’m a man of science.  And I know for a fact that Santa doesn’t really exist.  He may have hundreds of years ago, but not now.  It’s something for the kids.  A fairy tale.”

“Leonard, tell me what you want more than anything in the universe.  What do you want for Christmas?”

“I don’t know,” McCoy said.  “Nothing.”

“Come on, tell me.”

“I want the Enterprise and her captain and crew to be safe.”

“What else?”

“I want to visit my daughter on Earth.  Meet my son in law, for New Years.  That would be nice.  And I’d like a girlfriend...somebody to hold me, love me, kiss me under the mistletoe, maybe...” McCoy broke off, blushing deep crimson.

Mr. Claus snapped his fingers.  “Consider it done.”

McCoy chuckled.  “You don’t have the power.”

“Yes I do.”

“Thanks.  That makes me feel a little better.  Maybe.”

“Tell your captain, maybe if I couldn’t deliver the gifts to the boys and girls, maybe he could.  He has his own elf.”

McCoy raised an eyebrow.  “What?”

“On my planet, I have a shuttlecraft waiting--reindeer ready to go.  The elves have loaded it up with gifts for all the good boys and girls.  Tell your Captain and his elf to check it out.  They’ll see.”

McCoy was about to inform the man that Spock was no elf, but he left it at that.

*

“Bones, you’ve gotta be kidding me.”

“Jim, just--for the love of God, just go down there and see if he’s full of shit or not.  Okay?  I mean he seems benevolent enough.  Doens’t want to do us any harm--what else do you and Spock have to do besides wait out Claus’ illness?”

“We have plenty of work to do.”

“Like what?”

“Fine, Bones.  Mr. Spock and I will beam down.”

*

Jim rushed through the sickbay doors, Spock trailing him.  McCoy glanced up from his PADD.   

“Alright,” Jim said.  “He’s the real deal.”

“I told you,” Mr. Claus said.

“Jim, was it all there?” McCoy asked, almost excitedly.  

“And then some.  That shuttlecraft is loaded with gifts.  A special transporter is set up, once the shuttle is emptied of its load, to be reloaded with more gifts.  The elves are on standby.  The reindeer are hooked up--and get this, the reindeer don’t need oxygen.  They can survive in a vacuum.”

“You’re shitting me!” McCoy said, wide eyed.

“I scanned them myself,” Spock said.  “Everything appears legitimate.”

McCoy beamed at Mr. Claus.  “You’re real?  You’re really Santa?”

“I am.”

“Goddamn, that’s the most wonderful thing--”

“Bones,” Jim said.  “Bones!”

“Yeah, Jim.”

“Spock and I.” Jim motioned between them.  “We’re gonna deliver this guy’s gifts.”

Spock turned to Jim in poorly concealed surprise.  “Captain...I--”

“Jim,” McCoy said.  “How in the world are you gonna--?”

“Wonderful!” Santa Claus said.  “That’s great!"  He turned to his elf sitting next to him, petting the reindeer.  "Isn’t that great news, Gus?”

“Yeah,” Gus said.  “Great.”

“You’re gonna need uniforms,” Santa Claus told Jim.

“We’ll have the replicator supply us with some costumes, Mr. Claus.”

“Nonsense!  You must wear ours!”

“Yours won't fit.”

“Yes they will.  Gus!” Santa Claus snapped his fingers.  “Disrobe!  The captain’s elf is gonna take your place.”

“I am not an elf,” Spock informed him.

McCoy snickered.

*

The costumes fit them perfectly.  Bones couldn’t quit smirking and giggling at the sight of Spock in his elf costume.  

“Don’t even think about it, Bones,” Jim warned.

 “What?!  I wasn’t going to say anything.”

Jim looked over at Spock, dressed in green velvet leiderhosen, red and green tights, pointy shoes, and hat.  He licked his lips.  Spock caught his glance and he could swear the Vulcan was checking him out too.  Resplendent in red velvet trimmed with white fur.  A faux beard, red velvet hat, boots and belt to top it off.

“Lets go, Mr. Spock,” he commanded.  “My elf,” he whispered.

“Wait!” Claus shouted.   They halted.  “You forgot Rudolf!  He has to lead the shuttlecraft!”  Santa thrust the reindeer into Spock’s arms.

*

Jim couldn’t stop staring at Spock, dressed in the elf suit, holding that reindeer.  It took everything not to tackle that Vulcan elf in the turbolift and shower him with kisses and fuck him right there.

*

They spent Christmas eve night, delivering the gifts to all the boys and girls.  Apparently they’d traveled the universe in a few hours.  It was crazy.  Oddly enough, it all went quite smoothly.  Spock piloted the shuttle, the reindeer were out in front--which really looked strange, but whatever.  Rudolf led the way with his bright red nose--and that thing was really bright, like a beacon.   

To save time, they’d simply beamed some of the gifts into the houses, but feeling more confident in his role as replacement Santa Claus, nearing the end of the mission, Jim decided to try to slide down a few chimneys and physically deliver the gifts.  Maybe toss out a few ‘ho ho ho’s’.  That went very well.

But inside one of the final houses he went past the bathroom and halted to glance at his reflection in the mirror.  

He gasped at what he saw.  Unbelievably, he now had white hair, white eyebrows, rosy cheeks!  The faux white beard was now real, attached to his face.  He pulled on the long whiskers.  Ouch! 

Oh my God!

He gulped and rushed to make his way back to the shuttlecraft.  

“Look at this,” Jim told Spock who was waiting inside.  “I now have a white real beard.  What’s happening to me?”

“I do not know, Jim.”

"I hope this is temporary."

Spock’s hands slid down to Jim’s midsection which was now showing some considerable girth.  “You have gained a few pounds.  Quite rapidly.”   

“Mmmm.  Feels so good when you touch me,” Jim whispered.

 *

“What the devil?”  McCoy eyed the christmas tree in the corner of the sickbay ward.  There were several presents around it, candy canes hanging on the branches along with metallic ornaments and blinking christmas lights and a nutcracker and toy soldiers, and holly and wreaths and a...a train going round and round and round.  Bones watched, slack jawed.  

“I got tired of the boring ol’ Sickbay,” Santa said, grinning.  “Merry Christmas!”

“How did you do that?” McCoy demanded.

Santa smiled.  “Go look out in the corridor.”

McCoy did.  And was amazed.  Christmas decorations everywhere.  Lights, fake snow, christmas trees, candy canes, snowmen, christmas carolers,  you name it, it was there.  He checked in with the bridge, the bridge was fully decorated.  All the rec rooms, the mess halls, the conference rooms, quarters, everywhere.

Holy hell. 

McCoy came back into Sickbay.  “How did you do that?”

“Easy.  I’m Santa Claus.”

“I know you’re Santa Claus, but--”

“Doctor?”

He spun around at the voice behind him.  “Huh?”

“Hi, I’m Yeoman Barrows,  thought maybe you could give me some vitamins.”

God she was stunning.  Gorgeous in red uniform, fluffy brown hair--  “Oh,” he said flustered.  “Sure, yeah.  Alright.  Right this way.  You’ll excuse us, Santa.”

“Of course,” Santa replied.  

“Is that Santa Claus?” Barrows asked as he ushered her into his office.

"Maybe."  McCoy eyed her as he dispensed the vitamins.  “Don’t recall seeing you around.”

“I’m new.”

“Oh.  Nice to meet you.”

“Likewise.”

“Here you go.”  He handed the vitamins over.  

Her hand touched his as she took them from him.  “Doctor?”

“Yeah?”

“There’s a sprig of mistletoe hanging up over us.”

McCoy glanced up and grinned.  “Why so there is.”

*

“Oh Santa,” Spock moaned in the shuttlecraft, bent over the controls.  “Fuck me.”

Jim pounded harder into his elf’s tight ass.  “Like that, don’t you, my elf?”

“Oh, fuck me, Santa, fuck me Santa, fuck me Santa,” Spock chanted louder and louder.

“Oh yeah, Spock.  Love it when you talk dirty to me.”

 __________

 

END

 

 

 

 

 


End file.
